


Take the Long Road and Walk It

by canistakahari



Series: asymmetry [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Meet the Family, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:32:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/pseuds/canistakahari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bones's mother isn't really all that intimidating, once Jim has a chance to talk to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take the Long Road and Walk It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seanchaidh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seanchaidh/gifts).



Jim is totally fine with everything right up until the door closes behind Bones.  
  
For about three seconds, he’s prepared to deal with his life like an adult. That would involve, you know, going into the kitchen where he knows Mrs. McCoy is puttering around and having a proper conversation with her. He even gets as far as peeling his body off the front window (where he plastered himself like a starfish to watch Bones leave) before he abruptly changes trajectory and veers into the living room.   
  
He spends ten minutes poking around, listening vaguely to the kitchen sounds, and grinning at the photographic retrospective of Bones in various stages of childhood, adolescence, and adulthood. The jackpot comes in the form of a collage of baby pictures—a large black frame containing about ten images of impossibly chubby-cheeked, wide-eyed little Bones, with his shock of dark hair and heart-shaped face—and Jim can’t help crooning, “oh my gooood, lookit his  _cheeks_ ,” in an embarrassing voice as he pets the glass.  
  
“He was a sweet little terror, certainly,” says a voice from the doorway, and Jim looks up from having his heart melted to see an aproned Ellie McCoy regarding him with a fond smile. Bones and Jim both have a head of height on her but she still manages to dominate a room with her presence, statuesque and stunning with her white hair and strong features. Jim was initially surprised at her utter lack of southern accent, traces of something potentially mid-Atlantic audible instead.   
  
“I want to pinch his cheeks,” Jim replies, holding up the pictures. “I mean, I always want to do that, it’s not like he grew into them, but he was  _adorable_. Was he a pain in the ass?”  
  
“Oh, always,” she says, walking over to Jim to peer at the photos. She’s dusted in flour and smells like fresh pastry. “I’ve never seen a more stubborn creature. Just like his father.”  
  
“Didn’t grow out of that, then, either,” murmurs Jim, smiling. “A stubborn pushover. Arguing forever even while he does exactly what you asked him to do.”  
  
“Yes,” she chuckles, “exactly. Now, I’ve just put the pie crust in the fridge to chill. You’re going to slice the apples for me. Come,” she commands, patting him on the arm.  
  
“Yes ma’am,” he says obediently, following her into the kitchen.   
  
Jim isn’t about to beg out of  _apple pie_ , even if Bones’s mother kind of scares the bejesus out of him.   
  
She immediately puts him to work cutting up a small mountain of apples—apparently there will be  _two pies_  and a crumble at the end of all this—and for a moment the kitchen is comfortably quiet.   
  
“Do you know why he’s afraid of flying? Space?” Jim asks when he’s gotten into enough of a rhythm with his chopping to be reasonably sure he won’t cut off his fingertips.   
  
“You know, I’m not entirely certain,” replies Ellie. She’s washing dishes, soapy up to her elbows. “I don’t think it developed from a particular incident, because even as a child, he hated shuttle flights. He was about four, the first time David and I took him on one, and he buried his face in his knees and cried the entire way. I don’t think he likes that he can’t get off when he wants. He can’t control the journey.”

“He can fly one, now, you know,” says Jim proudly. “He passed his test last week. He couldn’t actually stand up when he got off, and he puked on my shoes, but he passed.”   
  
Ellie looks absurdly pleased. “He didn’t tell me that,” she says softly. There’s a wistful note to her voice. Jim knows there’s  _something_  still resolving between them following the death of David McCoy, a nervous tension that occasionally manifests itself in patent awkwardness when mother and son are interacting. Bones calls her infrequently, often out of guilt that he hasn’t spoken to her in a few weeks, and sends even more sporadic messages.  
  
Jim clears his throat and cores another apple. “He writes you a lot of messages,” he says slowly. “But sometimes he doesn’t send all of them. I think... he sometimes finds it hard to just...talk.”  
  
“We didn’t speak for several months after David died,” Ellie replies quietly. She’s stopped rinsing dishes, standing over the sink with her hands braced on the counter. “I shut him out. It was a terrible thing to do, especially when I knew exactly how badly he was hurting. It’s taken quite a lot of time and effort to recover what we lost.”  
  
The front door slams, and Bones’s voice calls, “Jim? Mama?” Jim and Ellie simultaneously respond with, “in the kitchen!”   
  
Bones appears in the doorway, wind-ruffled and faintly disturbed. “That was weird,” he says, glowering at them. “Don’t do that. I specifically requested you refrain from talkin’ bout me when left to your own devices together, and I can already tell you’ve broken that rule.”  
  
“To be fair,” says Jim, “neither of us  _agreed_  to honour your request. You just assumed we would.”  
  
“Conspiracy,” sighs Bones, rolling his eyes. He goes to his mother, craning his head to kiss her on the forehead, and she turns abruptly from the sink and wraps her arms around his middle. “Mama?” he says uncertainly, resting a tentative hand on her back. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“You didn’t tell me you could fly a shuttle,” she murmurs.   
  
Bones shoots a look Jim’s way; Jim waves it off and shrugs innocently.   
  
“I didn’t think it was that important,” Bones says gruffly, his cheeks flushing pink. Jim turns back to his apples, hiding a smile. “And I didn’t want to... worry you.”  
  
“I’m not the one afraid of flying,” says Ellie pointedly.   
  
Bones sighs again and tucks his chin over the top of her head. “Sorry. I’ll write more. I promise.”  
  
“Go wash up for dinner,” she says after a moment, releasing him. “There’s pie for dessert.”  
  
“Yes ma’am,” Bones murmurs. “And stop talking about me.” He disappears from the doorway with a parting glare.   
  
“So, did he sleep with a teddy bear?” Jim says loudly, grinning at Ellie.   
  
“A plush kangaroo,” says Ellie serenely, at equal volume. “Which he named—”  
  
“JIM!  _MAMA_!” bellows Bones from down the hall. “DON’T YOU—”  
  
“—Professor Hoppity.”   
  
Jim beams in unrestrained delight.


End file.
